The Third Kingdom
by The Lonesome God
Summary: A war is coming. Forces from the White City, the Black Depths and beyond are marching, the balance is thrown into chaos. In the middle, there stands a group of unlikely allies and dangerous enemies, ready to shape the future of the Kingdom of Man.


**A/N: **First attempt at fanfiction and completely un-beta'd, so forgive me if there's any spelling or grammatical errors. This story is going to have a heavy religious theme throughout and at times I will be unpleasant about it (specifically Christianity), however these are not my views and it will only happen if it makes sense in the story. Finally I own nothing, it would be nice to, but I don't. Please R&amp;R any feedback would be massively appreciated!

**August 1952**

Munich - Germany

It was not a good night to be on the streets. "Hell" Albus Dumbledore muttered to himself as he wiped brick dust from his eyes "It's not a good night to even be in the bloody city". He paused, listening for even the slightest sound that would betray his enemy. He grimaced, the thought of Gellert his onetime best friend as his enemy causing him more than a little pain.

This duel had so far not gone according to plan he, Albus Dumbledore, a 7 time duelling world champion and one of the most powerful wizard's in Europe at the moment, was being completely demolished by Gellert Grindelwald, a student who whilst at school showed no remarkable ability.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Gellert's usually soft spoken voice rang out with maniacal glee. "Albus, I'll give you a choice, submit or die!" That choice had become the very basis of his rule, and his newfound power coupled with his ruthless efficiency are what had kept this wizarding war lasting 7 years longer than its muggle counterpart. Albus sighed, he knew with his reserves as they were, short of an act of god, he would lose this fight and with it the war. He drew stood and drew himself to his full height, there a few spells he knew, legacies of a misspent youth that would reduce this city to blackened crater, other's had used them 7 years before in Japan, that had ended the muggle war, he hoped that this would do the same.

He began the chant to end this, he felt skeins of magic twirling around him, strengthening his body for what was to come. The magic filled him, fighting him, clawing to get free, to spread in a towering inferno that would destroy the 800,000 inhabitants of a city that had already been ravaged by war. He had never felt more alive or powerful, he had the power of a god in his hands at his fingertips, there was nothing he couldn't do!

And then it was gone, the ambient magic that had hung in the air like a fog since the outset of this duel had been torn away from his grasp. "Tut tut Albus, that's dark magic, you could get life in Azkaban for that, though it might be preferable for what would await you in Nurmengard." He smiled, it never reaching his eyes "Fortunately for you, you will never reach there. Of course, this is the point you expect me to monologue and give time for one of your little followers to try and save you, terribly sorry to disappoint old chap! Ora noctis" he slashed his wand lazily and a shard of blackest night flashed towards him, he desperately attempted one last dodge, but felt a white hot line of pain across his neck. Gellert leaned in "I would've been terribly angry if you'd have dodged that Albus, at best I'd say you had a minute, goodbye."

Panic gripped him, he could feel himself slipping away, he reached in to his robe and pulled out an elaborate jade amulet, ripped open his sleeve and pressed it to his flesh "Lower my celestial protections, domine mi Pazuo, intra me, sana me, da mihi potestatem et sine me servum tuum noceret percutiam." (my lord Pazuo, enter me, heal me, grant me power and allow me to strike down those who would harm your servant), the sound of sizzling flesh cut through the night. Albus Dumbledore stood once more, Grindelwald turned feeling power pressing in on him from all sides, he caught a whiff of sulphur and the Dark Lord that had cowed half the world knew no more.

**June 1993**

Hogwarts - Scotland

He bolted upright in his bed, cradling his head in his hands "Why was it always that night?" he wondered, the night that had given him everything, but taken so much more. "Tempus" a ghostly 3:30am shot from the tip of his wand, the wand he'd torn from the hand of Grindelwald. He decided to take it to honour his friend, so far as he could tell there was nothing special about it, it certainly wasn't as suited to him as his oak and horntail heartstring wand.

A piercing wail cut through his musing, he rose from his bed more gracefully than a man of 110 should have been able to and made his way over to the table upon which a cacophony of alarms were going off. He dispelled some of the redundant ones, and stared at the others, his customary tinkle no longer present in his eyes. He was led to one inescapable conclusion, Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world and chosen one, was gone.


End file.
